


The One Where Milan Piqué Saves the Day

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Celebrations, FC Barcelona, Fluff, Gen, Gen Work, Granada, Kid Fic, La Liga, Stress, Team as Family, barca fam, crowds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:26:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6898420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo kept reaching for his teammates, kept trying to move towards the tunnel, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move. People kept coming, kept grabbing him, kept slamming into him.</p><p>And now Leo can't breathe, bodies pressed against him on all sides, everyone trying to get a piece of him--no matter the cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Milan Piqué Saves the Day

**Author's Note:**

> After Barcelona beat Granada 3-0, thereby winning la liga, fans rushed the field. The security was not prepared for such an event, and the Barcelona players were quickly surrounded. This is the aftermath.
> 
> See the end note for a bonus drabble.
> 
> Gif source: http://losalbicelestes.tumblr.com/post/144354056154

 

 

 

 

Leo feels like he's going to be torn apart.

One second he'd been fine, Geri's arm around him, the two of them celebrating with the rest of the team. Singing and dancing with joy after winning the league again. Hearing Dani's cackling and Luis' high-pitched laughing. Watching Andrés' smile stretch from ear to ear for the first time in *so* long.

And the next second, they'd been surrounded.

People were grabbing at every part of him they could--hands clawing at his arms, arms wrapping around his neck, nails scraping at his back, fingers pulling at his hair and his jersey--and Leo can't get away, can't escape any of them.

He'd felt somewhat protected when Geri was with him, but then someone had yanked hard on the back of his jersey--trying to rip it off of him-- and Geri had been pushed forward without him. Leo had been swallowed by the crowd, Neymar fighting someone off on one side of him with Rafinha, while Marc had tried to grab ahold of him on the other.

Leo kept reaching for his teammates, kept trying to move towards the tunnel, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move. People kept coming, kept grabbing him, kept slamming into him.

And now Leo can't breathe, bodies pressed against him on all sides, everyone trying to get a piece of him--no matter the cost.

Security is fighting their way toward him, pushing and shoving as hard as they can, and Leo desperately tries to meet them halfway. They're screaming something at him, throwing elbows and trying to make their way through. Leo can't hear anything anymore, though. All of the shouting and yelling has turned into a big blur, hundreds of bodies soundlessly moving their mouths in vain.

There's a moment when he thinks he's going to be crushed, hands around his windpipe and something pressing into his stomach, but then there are two suits on either side of him, and he's rushed out of the crowd and pulled to the tunnel.

Shakily, he takes a deep breath.

Masche is all of a sudden there next to him, and Leo turns and hugs him immediately.

He needs someone to hold him together--needs an embrace instead of hands pulling him apart--and he buries his face in Masche's neck, clinging like a child. His hearing is coming back slowly, the sound of his heart beating whooshing though his ears over the shrieking he's left behind. But gold spots are flashing in front of his eyes, and he squeezes his lids shut tightly, afraid he's going to pass out.

Masche doesn't understand at first, thinks Leo's just hugging him in celebration, but when Leo doesn't speak and wheezes something incoherent, Masche seems to get it. "Leo?" he asks, wrapping his arms around Leo securely.

Leo's hears him, hears Masche's concern rumbling through his chest, and he's going to try to say more, but then someone launches onto his back.

He jumps, heart racing, until he hears Andrés singing into his ear. His teammate hugs him, joyfully unaware of Leo's terror, "We've done it, my friends!" Andrés laughs, starting up the familiar celebratory song. "Campeones, Campeones, olé, olé, olé!"

Leo can't laugh back, too busy holding onto to Masche. He almost can't breathe, his face pressed against Masche's neck, lips tasting dirt and sweat, but he'd rather stay like this than look up. Masche is muttering something into Leo's hair, his hands clutching Leo protectively. Eventually Leo can hear the words he's repeating, "Cameras, Leo, the cameras."

And so he lurches out of Masche's arms and staggers further down the tunnel, a smile pasted on his face.

Someone wants his jersey. A player on the other team who smiles at him and babbles something about the game. Leo stares at him blankly before complying, trading his shirt away and giving a hug. His body is on autopilot, barely functioning, but doing what he has to until he's in the safety of the locker room.

Once he gets there, he's ready to collapse, but Masche grabs his elbow, taking some of his weight. "Breathe, Leo, breathe," Masche repeats, turning him to the wall for a moment and hiding their faces from the rest of the rapidly filling room. "They're going to take our picture, and then you can rest, I promise you can rest." He hugs Leo again. "Just stay with me a little longer."

So Leo keeps that smile on his face and jumps up and down, singing as the pictures are taken. Then he sits down heavily on the bench and covers his face with his hands, still violently trembling. There's talking over him, Masche's voice drowning out the others. A few hands ruffle his hair and pat his shoulders, but Leo doesn't look up.

He can't.

He's shaken to his core.

He'd been almost pulled apart by a crowd before.

Long ago, when he was younger, and the team had been traveling somewhere or another. He doesn't even remember where they were now... But he'll never forget that terrible feeling, that panic he felt. It's why the club always has extra security for him now--extra people who go with him wherever he goes, no matter what. Sometimes his teammates laugh at him, call him special, or a diva, but Leo doesn't care.

The pitch was supposed to be a safe place for him. It's always been his safe place--a place where he could forget about everything except the ball.

And now that's ruined.

"After they get it under control," Andrés says loudly, and the room quiets, "we'll go out and celebrate again. Properly this time. And we have to thank the fans." There's some murmuring and laughter, the sounds of celebration about to start up again.

"Not everyone has to go," Masche says quickly, hand on the back of Leo's neck.

There's a bit of silence after that. "Masche," Busi starts, but Masche plows on.

"Anyone who would prefer to stay here is allowed to," Masche says firmly, speaking like the true captain he is. His thumb strokes the side of Leo's neck. "If you want to go out there again, that's great, but if you want to stay here, it's fine. I'll be staying."

"They'll get it under control," Andrés says soothingly. "They'll clear the field and they'll have extra security out there to protect us. They've apologized to me and assured me they'll take care of it."

"Maybe they will," Dani says suddenly from the corner. "But Neymar and I are going to stay here, too. We're not comfortable going out there."

Leo lifts his head to look in their direction, wearily taking in the way Neymar's cuddled under Dani's arm with a hand pressed to his mouth. Neymar's looking down at the floor, uncharacteristically content with Dani speaking for him, and that alone is enough to alarm Leo.

But Leo can barely sit up, let alone worry about comforting Neymar.

Things settle down after that, players taking out their phones to make calls, to take selfies, to get ready to go back out on the field when they're called.

Geri reappears with Milan in his arms, both of them babbling enthusiastically at each other. "Alright?" Geri asks Leo. "It'll just take a few minutes, they tell me. And then we can go back out." He props Milan up a little higher on his hip, looking around the locker room and smiling.

Leo starts seeing spots again, his chest getting tight. "I think," he says quietly. "I'm going to stay here." He leans back against the lockers and closes his eyes. Masche is warm against his side, but he shivers, remembering the way the crowds had closed in on him.

Geri doesn't say anything in response. When Leo opens his eyes, Geri is looking at him thoughtfully. And just when Leo thinks that Geri is going to let it go, Geri drops Milan into his lap instead.

"Stay here with Uncle Leo for a minute," Geri says, grabbing Masche and tugging him away once Leo's arms instinctively come up and cradle the little boy in his lap. "I'll be right back." Then Geri pulls Masche over across the room and out into the corridor.

Milan laughs, shifting and squirming until he's facing Leo. "We won!" he exclaims, eyes brimming with excitement. "Campeones!" He snuggles into Leo's shirt, either uncaring or already used to the fact that Leo's wet with sweat and smelling disgusting. "And we get another trophy and Daddy is going to ride on the bus in the parade, and Mommy and me are going to wave at him!"

Leo holds him closer, shutting his eyes and resting his lips on Milan's dark hair. He takes a couple of deep breaths, and he just hugs him, relishing in that indescribable feeling that comes with holding a little boy against his chest. Milan continues to chatter into Leo's neck, his childish voice washing over Leo's nerves, scraping over his jagged edges, soothing him without even meaning to.

"And then he scored again and again and again," Milan rambles on, tiny fingers curled into Leo's undershirt. "He got three. So I said--Barça, Barça, Barça! Because it's three times. And I thought he could get four," Milan says, leaning back from Leo, who opens his eyes to smile at him. Milan holds up a hand and counts off four on his fingers. "This is four. It's one more than three. That's how many he got. I thought he would get four, but he didn't. Daddy said maybe next game," Milan says, beaming.

"Maybe next game," Leo agrees when Milan looks at him expectantly.

His pulse is slowing down with every second, until it's finally back to normal. His heart starts beating in sync with Milan's. Slow and steady despite the constant talking.

Milan giggles and then rests his head against Leo's chest. "And I told Daddy that you and Ney have to score next game then, too. And he said that was a good idea and I should tell you to do that. Okay? So score lots of goals because I want to hold up both hands because that would be ten. Daddy holds up one hand for five goals, but I want two hands. So we need ten goals. You don't have to score all of them. You can share them if you want, but we need ten."

Leo laughs, wondering when the little boy has time to breathe. He can't help tickling Milan. "That's a lot of goals, but I'll try," he says as Milan laughs and squirms in his arms. "I think I will have to share them. Maybe you should make sure Ney knows we need ten goals, too."

He looks up at the shadow looming over them and realizes Geri is back.

Geri looks from his giggling son to Leo. "Better?" he asks softly, threading a hand through Leo's hair. He brushes it back from Leo's forehead and then rests a hand on top of Leo's head.

Leo smiles gently at him. "Better," he agrees, taking another deep breath and then letting it out slowly, happy when it doesn't seem shaky.

Geri closes his eyes momentarily. "Good," he breathes in relief, opening his eyes again and looking fondly at both of them. "Because I need to go give him to Ney, now." He jerks his head over in the corner where Luis and Dani and Rafinha are surrounding Neymar and talking in low voices. Neymar is rubbing his face and looking increasingly more upset.

Leo releases Milan reluctantly, ducking his head as the little boy clutches at his father as they cross the room to head to Neymar. Masche sits back down next to Leo on the bench and follows his gaze. They watch as Geri pushes through the circle of players around Neymar, depositing Milan onto the Brazilian's lap and tugging everyone else away quickly before Neymar has time to figure out what's happening.

"Pretty smart, huh?" Masche murmurs as they watch Neymar balance Milan on his knee. Milan starts talking immediately, tracing his fingers over the tattoos on Neymar's arm and then poking them curiously. Neymar looks to be on the brink of tears, breathing heavily and frowning. But slowly he pulls Milan closer, holding him like he's something precious, answering questions hesitantly.

And gradually, Neymar loses that haunted look he's wearing. Color comes back into his cheeks and a smile appears, his pointy teeth flashing as he laughs at whatever Milan is saying.

"Very smart," Leo admits, leaning into Masche. They sit companionably in silence as Geri eventually returns to collect Milan. Neymar's brightened considerably and even stands to play some game that involves tossing Milan from person to person. Someone turns the music up and everyone starts dancing around again joyfully.

When it's time to go back out, Leo still decides to stay behind.

But nobody tries to make him change his mind. Andrés and Busi hug him as they go by. Arda slaps his hand while Jordi kisses his cheeks, and Claudio ruffles his hair. His teammates understand. And they don't leave him alone. He's surrounded by Masche, Dani, Luis, and Ney.

Geri starts singing, "Campeones," before he's even out the door, and it slowly starts to sink in again that they've won the league.

Leo's not sure he's ever felt better.

Especially when Milan waves at him as Geri carries him away.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I wanted to write a second part, which would deal with the parade the following day, but I can't seem to do it. Here's my headcanon for those interested though.
> 
> Leo gets on the bus reluctantly. He doesn't want to go up top. Doesn't want to see the crowds. Everytime he thinks about it, his throat gets dry and his chest gets tight, and he imagines the people rushing towards the bus.
> 
> His friends understand. They leave him be and go up top to celebrate. Except for Geri. He stays behind, to eat and to drink, to keep Leo company even when Leo says he's fine.
> 
> "I saw the video," Geri admits, once Leo's finished his burger. "I saw how I let go of you. And I didn't even notice that I left you behind."
> 
> "No," Leo says, touching Geri's arm. "It wasn't like that," he says, shaking his head. "Someone grabbed me from behind--you had no idea... I don't blame you, Geri. I would never blame you."
> 
> Geri takes another sip of his drink. "I blame myself, though," he says, looking at Leo sadly. "I left you behind to fend for yourself. And I had promised you I would never do that again." He tilts his head. "I'm so sorry, Leo."
> 
> Leo punches his shoulder.
> 
> "My son punches harder than you," Geri says, smirking. "But, also, ow."
> 
> Leo smiles. "I don't blame you, you idiot. Now shut up and hand me another burger."
> 
> Geri hides his smile behind his beer. "Only if you promise to go up top with me." He takes another sip. "You know the party is dead without us."
> 
> "Without you, maybe," Leo says, crossing his arms.
> 
> "Come on," Geri cajoles. "I promised Ramos I'd do something despicable, and I need you there to see it." He arches an eyebrow. "What do you say?"
> 
> ..........
> 
> And the rest is history ;)


End file.
